


H. Unilateralis

by CarburetorCastiel



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Angst, Bucky/Brock (Past/Not Healthy), Captain America Reverse Big Bang 2018, Explicit Language, Gritty, M/M, Mentions of past unhealthy relationship, Mild Sexual Content, Natasha/Sam (Background), Non-Graphic Violence, Stucky - Freeform, Violence, latin scientific words, zombies are a known pop culture entity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-05-29 05:05:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15065768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarburetorCastiel/pseuds/CarburetorCastiel
Summary: In the middle of an unprecedented apocalyptic era, the greatest threat to people is still each other. Small group wars can rise up because of territory disputes, supply claims, ethical disagreements, even petty ex-boyfriends with a propensity for violence and a loyal troop willing to do anything to survive.For Bucky, this means running and hiding and fighting every moment of his life to be safe.For Steve, this means collecting the best of people and protecting his family over everything.Captain America Reverse Big Bang 2018. Artist: HopelessGeek





	H. Unilateralis

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wuzzy90](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wuzzy90/gifts).



> Happy 100th Birthday, Steve Rogers. 
> 
> (Notice: The pictures are smaller to help the flow on mobile reading. Please click the links below to see the art and aesthetic board better.)
> 
> Art Link: [Zombie Apocalypse by HopelessGeek](https://78.media.tumblr.com/f54d31959204c545cc7b55265d9f9e05/tumblr_p9xoucpVBs1snayoeo4_r1_540.jpg)
> 
> Aesthetic Link: [Zombie Apocalypse by CarburetorCastiel](https://78.media.tumblr.com/f372345adfc10eb82c3967cff690b8e7/tumblr_p9xoucpVBs1snayoeo5_r1_540.jpg)
> 
> The artist is HopelessGeek on [Tumblr](https://hopelessartgeek.tumblr.com/) and [Other Tumblr](http://hopeless--geek.tumblr.com/) and [AO3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wuzzy90) and [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/hopelfulartgeek/) .
> 
> This is dedicated to HopelessGeek for being an amazing artist for the big bang and for being so patient with me while it took forever for me to actually get this written and for being flexible about story length. I'm sorry this literally was finished so last minute. You were so helpful and kind during this process and I appreciate you so much! I hope you like this final piece! Thank you so much!
> 
> Also a shout-out to Artgroves, an artist, author, and RBB mod who is literally so kind and helpful and answered every one of my questions even when they were ridiculous and I thought there was a curse on me.  
> 

Original Art by HopelessGeek

Aesthetic Board by CarburetorCastiel

 

\---

Window cleaner? No. Couch pillows? No. Baby food? Sure. Notebooks? Sure. Lipstick? No. 

There wasn't much left in the store when he got there. Most places nowadays were already pillaged of anything useful. Sometimes he got lucky if he could think of uses for items that others didn't. Not many people took the spiral bound notebooks – there were roughly thirty on the shelf. But Bucky figured that would make great kindling for fire and a rudimentary paper gauze if need be. It seemed like an obvious item to choose. 

He was flitting through the aisles, always watching and listening for any potential danger. His long messy hair was stuffed under his baseball cap and the ends were tickling the back of his neck. That was the most annoying inconvenience of all of this for him. He couldn’t shower regularly. And his hair was important to him. He hated how greasy and knotted it was now. 

The temperature was high today, like most days, and he was sweating pretty heavily through his layers. He wiped his forehead and mouth on his jacket sleeve. Then he paused for a second after he did so, regretting putting even more grime on the already dirty faded denim. Maybe that decorative couch pillow could come in handy after all. He went back to the aisle and snatched one from the shelf. On the front, it had a sequin pattern of a pineapple with sunglasses. He ripped open the zipper and pulled the pillow out of the case and tossed it aside – it was too bulky to carry around. The material of the pillowcase wasn't very soft. It was more like a soft canvas but it would do the trick. He pulled at its seams until it was just a long patch cloth that he then tied around his forearm to use whenever habit brought his wrist up to wipe his face. 

After a few more minutes of rummaging around, Bucky was startled out of his search by the slow gentle creak of the front door being slid open. At one point, the door was automatic but lack of electricity to the building had cut off the motion sensor. Not all places were like that, though. Several areas still had power and running water and such. In stores with an active automatic door, someone had to watch to make sure it didn't open up for any wandering biters to make their way inside. Bucky had been in a situation like that once. It was almost comical to see a stray walk by and trigger the door. If he ignored everything around him, he could imagine he was an employee at a pop-up Halloween store just welcoming customers wearing full zombie makeup already. 

But the sound he heard just now was caused by a human. There was no way anything else could have the brain to hand motivation to pull the doors apart. 

Bucky ducked down behind the shelves and moved as quietly but quickly as he could down the aisle to peek at the intruder. He couldn’t help but think of this unknown person as an intruder even though he didn't own this grocery store and didn't have any real claim here. But this was his stash. He got here before them and he was still looking for what he wanted. 

The man Bucky glanced as he sneaked on to the next row was immediately unimposing to him. Something about the way he looked. He was tall and fit and had a pack and a gun just like Bucky did. But his face with those downturned lips and exhausted eyes just made him seem... beatable. Or maybe it was the hair – blonde and loosely grazed to the side. Maybe something in Bucky was less intimidated by blondes even if that wasn't logical at all. Also, this man's hair looked cleaner than his own which told Bucky that he hadn't been living as desperately and may not be able to go toe to toe with someone more feral like Bucky. Of course, maybe he was just jealous because he would love to get himself cleaned up like that. 

In his distraction watching the man carefully, Bucky hadn't realized the sliding doors were still open and a few monsters had gotten in. He heard a throaty cry and looked up to see two coming in. He whipped around just before another had a chance to come up on him. "Fuck," he spit and raised his handgun up to pop one bullet straight to its head. 

The blonde finally realized he wasn't alone. He made eye-contact with Bucky first and then looked at the creatures making their way slowly towards them. He gasped sharply and pulled his pistol from his side. He hadn't even been holding it ready. "Shit, where did you come from?" he asked, moving away back up the main aisle, keeping his eyes jumping around uncertainly. 

"I got here first," Bucky said immediately, making sure the interloper knew this was his stash first. He let off two more shots, both ripping through the foreheads of two more biters. "You left the door open, you idiot!" he added with a shout. 

The other man took four shots of his own to take down a single one and, by then, there was a handful more incoming. "I wanted to make sure I had a quick exit in case something was inside." The logic made sense but there were so many other options. 

Bucky scoffed as he shoved a whole shelving unit down onto one meandering through the laundry detergent. "You should have checked the room before closing it then. Or shut it and had your gun ready to shoot the glass so you could run. Or bring a look-out if you couldn't handle this on your own!" he yelled his suggestions between taking aim and firing. Only once did he waste a bullet after it took off an ear but didn't kill the thing. 

"Hey! Over here! There's an office," the man shouted from across the store. The office was empty of anything but furniture. And the furniture could be used to block the door for safety. It was about the best option since all this noise had drawn more to them. 

Bucky looked over at the man and had to make a quick decision. He didn't know this stranger and he didn't think he could trust him not to kill him and take his stuff the second they were in close quarters. But it was a better risk than letting himself be overrun. So, he hopped over a stack of fallen laundry baskets and booked it to the office. The stranger closed the door behind him and shoved the double file cabinet against it. He was stronger than Bucky first gave him credit for. It was possible Bucky underestimated him – which just made these close quarters feel even more tiny and hazardous.  

Bucky stayed standing with his handgun still on the ready, eyeing him closely. But then the man sat down. He sighed and pulled his pack off and took out a box of graham crackers. "You want some?" he asked flatly and offered a sleeve out to Bucky. When Bucky didn't take it, he added, "Calm down. I'm Steve. Sit. I think we are going to be here for a while." 

It was quiet for a long moment while Bucky cautiously sat down as far on the other side of the office as possible. He was still only a few feet away from this man Steve. "Why did you come here alone? You're not a very good shot. You won't make it long by yourself if you expect that four bullets per zombie will do the trick." 

Steve chuckled and bit off a chunk of a graham cracker. "You call them zombies?" He seemed to ignore the rest of the comments from Bucky. "I guess that's basically what they are, right? I mean since it only happens in the dead. But it just feels weird to think of them as zombies, you know? It's not like what we all saw in dumb movies and stuff." 

"It's pretty much the same," Bucky mumbled. He was still wary of Steve. He seemed too personable for a situation like this.  

Steve nodded and set the box of graham crackers on the ground between them as a sort of peace offering. "What's your name?" He took a radio from his pack and flicked it on. There was static and then a line of dots and dashes on a frequency. 

Bucky's eyes went wide and he felt himself scoot an inch closer. "You have a radio." He couldn't believe it. That was a damn commodity now. Everyone wanted one, not many had a working one.  

"Sort of, yes. It's not like a walkie-talkie. That would be better. It runs Morse only," Steve explained and listened to the message on the line again before clicking buttons to send out his own. Bucky wished he knew Morse code. He didn't like not knowing what Steve was sending to whom. 

After the message was sent, Steve tucked the radio back into his bag. "So, your name?" he tried again. "Look, you're right. I am a bad shot. And, clearly, I didn't think things through with the door." He paused and lowered his voice a bit like the next part was a secret. "I've got a group. We're strong. There's a handful of us. We look out for each other. You can come with us. After seeing your aim, my god, who could even think of not trying to get you on their team, huh?"  

That, at least, was true. Bucky was an excellent shot. He had been practicing for years. He hardly missed. He rarely wasted a bullet and never on purpose. Right now, either in his bag, on his belt, or slung on his back, he had seven firearms and two pretty serious knives. If he was ever going to compliment himself on anything, it was his weaponry skills. In that way, he was an asset like Steve said. "Bucky. That's my name. Yeah." 

 

\--- 

 

Some people always knew that the earth itself would cause the next big shift in humankind. There was endless talk of nuclear war, dictatorship, genocide – a reversion back to an old flavor of man-made destruction. But the earth was always the answer for several groups. Many believed the threat that humans posed to the planet would end up becoming too much and the planet would have to fight back. Things like massive hurricanes, earthquakes, sinkholes, and volcanoes were a former tactic and didn't work anymore. Humans had proven to be far more resilient than a common natural disaster could anticipate.  

So, the planet grew a fungus. It started out small – actually, as small as it could manage – with insects. Scientists studied it and called it  _Ophiocordyceps_ _unilateralis_ _._ It was just another bizarre discovery made in the rainforests in South America and Thailand. It was easily ignored and only commonly discussed as a bit of trivia at parties or recorded for nature documentaries. Just an interesting side-note and nothing more.  

It wasn't for years that it started to morph and change. The advent of radioactive pollution, nuclear influence, and garbage sludge mutated a lot of species around the globe. Fungi seemed more susceptible than other taxonomic kingdoms. The cordyceps weren't the only ones being affected. But they did have the most potential for a deadly interaction on a micro-scale. Soon,  _O._ _unilateralis_ and it's brother species had recoded to take over runt rodentia and then on to small fish and birds.  

And eventually, it made its way to humans. Almost two hundred years after the initial discovery in ants and beetles, the mutant fungi was running rampant through civilization, fighting back against man with the most effective tool in history – disease. 

  

\--- 

 

"So, that's what happened," Bucky mused under his breath and passed the bag of marshmallows back to Steve. Steve happened to have all the ingredients for s'mores so they were heating up marshmallows over Bucky's lighter just enough so they would melt the chocolate a little.  

They were also discussing all of this. Meaning, someone in Steve's group had information on what happened to cause these reanimations and subsequent toppling of civilization. Bucky had asked Steve something along the lines of what his theory was. And Steve explained what he knew. 

Basically, after the fungi had mutated enough to be able to affect a human host, it had to adapt to survive the new hosts as well. It wasn't able to take over the functionality of living people, only the dead ones. But it needed a way to get itself into the living as well. Which is why there was so much biting and scratching and a need to get at living human bodies. Its job was to get inside a living host, slowly poison it until it died sometime later, then take control of the host for itself and spread some more. The fungus could spread through the blood so biting a living human and sending its fungal cells into their veins was ideal. The excess saliva centers in the corpses made that possible. Scratching wasn't always as effective. And, because of the limited resources in a rotting body, the human host invariably 'died again' after roughly ten to twelve days. That was when the diseased entity couldn't sustain the movable body any longer and it simply collapsed and shut down again. 

"Yeah, well, it's not what anyone expected," Steve said with a knit of thought in his brows and a contemplative stare. "If it wasn't so dire of a situation, it would be a little funny. It's kind of absurd to think that humanity could very well be destroyed but a micro-fungus. You know?" 

Bucky shook his head. "Or is that actually the only way to destroy something so massive – with something so small." He liked to think less about how ridiculous this all was and more about the poetic justice of the earth retaliating with an ignored, underestimated thing like a 'zombie fungus'. 

"Sure, yeah. I mean, that seems a little dramatic. I don't think it mattered so much what was the culprit, but more that we got to this point at all," Steve offered in return and let out a little sigh. "But, maybe it'll work out. Maybe there is a way to get rid of it. Like a way to prevent it from poisoning the body. Or a way to stop it from leaving the dead bodies." 

Steve was talking like there was still a valid governing body that could support research into a vaccine or something. It seemed like useless talk to Bucky. There wasn't a way to change this. The only hope was for the living to find a safe place and stay put – just going about their lives trying to avoid the spread. "I don't know. It seems like a stretch."  

"You know some people thought this was some sort of next evolution for man?" Steve continued, not really skipping a beat with his thoughts. "I don’t know if you saw at all, but when it first started, there were like cult groups who said that scientists shouldn't try to stop it because it's our next phase. Or some form of enlightenment or whatever. I'm not sure. All I know is that if we evolve again, it won't be into dead mindless mannequins being controlled by fungi." 

Bucky hummed shortly in response. It had been a few hours now. Steve had informed him that his group was on their way. But it really was taking longer than he expected it to. "Yeah, I don’t think this is anything more than a plague - a dangerous plague, one that'll probably consume everything eventually, but still a plague," Bucky said. 

Steve moved a little closer to him in the space and leaned against the wall. He had gotten Bucky to warm up to him after a bit. It wasn't that hard all things considered. Bucky even showed him all his guns and explained how they all worked. He said if he was going to join Steve's group, they all were going to have to get better at using weaponry because he couldn't protect them all himself. "Some of the researchers my friend knows thought these cult groups were absolutely idiotic. I feel like most people did, actually. But in mockery of their belief that it was a new evolution, they started calling the reanimated hosts ' _Homo_ _unilateralis_ '. Someone even made a satirical educational video about the change from  _Homo sapiens_ into  _Homo_ _unilateralis_." 

He laughed to himself again for a moment and then fell silent. It was funny. It  _was_ laughable to think anyone thought this was a natural next step. But it also wasn't funny at all. Because now everyone was in it. No matter what someone claimed or believed in, they were all in the same boat in the end. 

Bucky glanced up at Steve when he heard him stop talking. Clearly, the man wasn't okay. He was thinking about this too much now. He was going to start spiraling. Bucky knew that feeling well. "Hey, how about we see what we can find in here that might be useful? I've been curious about what's in that safe over there." 

"It's probably just money and files and stuff," Steve said as Bucky moved to sit in front of the safe. "We have time, though. We could try to guess the combination." He was getting bored now. It had only really hit him just that second. His group was taking much longer now than he had hoped and he was getting worried and annoyed to be stuck here.  

"We don’t need the combination," Bucky corrected gently and put his hands on the dial and felt around the sides of the safe, knocking here and there to listen for reverb.   

Steve sat up again, leaning forward in curiosity. "Can I ask you what you did before this?" If Bucky was so good handling guns and could somehow just open this safe without the combination, there was cause for suspicion. He could be a robber or something. Not that any of that mattered now. But it was still good to know. 

"Relax," Bucky said with a short look over to him. "I was in business management. And, no, that isn't code for anything. I was a branch manager for a company that sold vinyl sheeting and stuff like that." 

"Oh... right, sorry," Steve apologized and sat back again. "I think the guns and safe-cracking kind of threw me off." He picked at some dirt under his nails but kept one eye on the safe. Bucky seemed to be getting closer to opening it. 

It took a few more unexplainable clicks on the dial and then the safe was open. Bucky smiled wide and pushed the door aside to see what was in there. There wasn't much. A small stack of manila envelopes and a key in the back. But there was a gun – a glock – a sitting in the back. "Ooh, yes," Bucky breathed and pulled it out and checked for ammo. It was loaded and there was an additional box but that was it. "I wonder why a grocery store office had a loaded handgun in the safe?" 

Steve eyed Bucky as he checked over the gun. "Maybe whoever it belonged to was in trouble or something. Like in debt with the mob. I don’t know." 

"In debt with the mob, huh?" Bucky chuckled and stashed the glock away in his bag. Now, he had eight guns. "Why is that your first option? You're a little theatric, aren't you?" 

"I'm theatric and you're doom-and-gloom," Steve joked and knocked the toe of his boot against Bucky's playfully. "Yeah, I guess I am kind of theatric, though. I was a writer, actually. Not a very good one, I guess. I don't know. I got paid to write short stories for reading comprehension sections on standardized tests. It wasn't a very glorious job or anything. But I never finished any major project that I thought would be worthy enough to try to get published." 

Bucky nodded, a small frown on his face. He understood what it was like not getting to live out your dream. Of course, his dream was much different, but it was all the same in the end. There was nothing left but survival now. "I'm sorry you didn't get a chance to have your work recognized," he said in hopes that was enough to help without seeming patronizing. 

Steve shrugged. He pulled his legs back up against his chest and grabbed the radio again. There was nothing new on the line. And they had been waiting for nearly five hours now if their estimate was right. The radio was shoved back into his bag and he looked back to Bucky, arms crossed. "Alright, so you have to tell me about the guns and the safe-cracking and stuff. How do you know all that?" 

There was a long pause and then Bucky scooted much closer to Steve again. He sat in front of him so they were facing each other close. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a wallet. In it, there was some money, a few credit cards, a license, a punch ticket for an ice cream shop – all useless now. He took out a folded paper by the cash and opened it up. It was a photograph, still fairly nice after all the time being stuck in his jacket pocket. "This is me," he said, pointing to a much younger looking Bucky. "This right here is my sister," he added and pointed to a girl only a few years younger than him. "And that's my dad." He held the picture up for Steve to see them all sitting together at a table with a board game spread out between them.  

Bucky waited for Steve to say anything to that but he didn't. So Bucky continued, "My dad was a survivalist by hobby. He was that crazy old man down the street that had a fully-stocked apocalypse bunker under his shed. We learned a lot of stuff from him. He wanted us to be prepared. He died about a seven years ago – lung cancer." 

"I see," Steve said quietly after a long moment of staring at the picture. He had heard a lot of personal stories so far. Everyone in his group had something to tell. "Well, that's good then. I thought you were a bank robber or something," he added awkwardly and gave Bucky a nervous smile. 

Bucky smiled back and folded the picture back up and carefully placed it in his wallet. "No, not a robber. Not a criminal," he said as he moved back to his side of the office. "Not really my style," he mumbled absently. "Certainly, was my boyfriend's, though. Took me like a whole year to figure out that he was running a low-level drug-dealing business from our apartment." He wasn't sure why he said that. He hadn't talked to anyone about it yet. Maybe it was because he just managed to get away from his ex now. Maybe he was desperate for new human contact and to talk it through. 

Steve cocked his head to the side and stared at Bucky. This was a lot of new information. "Wait, hold on. You have a boyfriend?" 

"Well, ex-boyfriend now, but, yeah," Bucky said tentatively. Why did Steve cling only to that one bit of information? It didn't occur to Bucky that even in a global crisis like this with lots of other crap to worry about, homophobes were still walking around. He decided that it was better to have a preemptive strike on whatever rant Steve was going to spew. "Look, I'm not going to come on to you or whatever, so you can save your speech." 

He just laughed. Steve shook his head and just laughed, a big amused grin on his face. "No, I'm not going to give you a speech. I'm bisexual," he said. "I was just surprised. You didn't really strike me as queer at all. Not that I should be judging anyone off of appearance and aura. It's just a little relieving. I was sitting here worried I was with an anti-queer redneck kind of guy. Which also isn't fair because, again, that's going off of appearances and the guns and stuff." He rambled a little and then hung his head. "Wow, I'm not coming off great right now. I'm sorry. I was just nervous." 

Bucky was slow to respond. He figured he could forgive the assumptions made about him. He, undoubtedly, had done the same thing countless times in his own life. And it was reassuring to be with Steve right now. They both seemed to calm down with this new understanding of each other. "Right, yeah. No worries. I understand," he fumbled out. "I don't usually lead with the fact that I just got out of a long-term relationship with a man so how would you have known?" 

Steve agreed and apologized again. "Can I ask about your ex? I'm only curious because we are stuck here with nothing to do but talk. But, if you don't want to discuss it, I understand." 

"No, yeah, that's fine. I can talk about it." Bucky tried to come off as nonchalant about the whole thing but he was actually eager to discuss this mess with someone. "Um, well, we were together for probably close to six years give or take. Before all this, he was just dealing cocaine to the colleges. I literally didn't know for about a year and a half of dating him. Until I came home early to find him collecting money from his middlemen. They were just a handful of students too. I almost left him. But I didn't. I can't really express why. I just didn't. And after a while, I kind of just ignored the parts of him that I didn't like." 

Steve hummed and tugged at the end of his shoestring and then retied it. "He sounds wonderful," he said sarcastically under his breath. He didn't much care if people did drugs and stuff. But something about selling on a college campus to students just seemed clearly different and wrong. 

Bucky shrugged. "Yeah, well. Things were pretty much okay, I guess. We got in fights sometimes but that wasn't new. It only really got bad once all this crap started to happen. We were on our own for a while. After our city power grid went offline, we packed up some stuff and headed out. The goal was to get somewhere with electricity. But we kind of picked up some hitchhikers on the way. Kind of like you and your group, I suppose."  

Bucky sighed. He was still angry with himself for not leaving him sooner. He continued, "Uh, but, it got kind of big. And everyone saw him as the leader. But he's the kind of guy who lets any amount of power goes to his head. Before I could really understand how it happened, we were like... a pack of wolves. He had us starting territory wars for better land or buildings. He threatened other groups' children and injured members so they would have to give up supplies to us. It just all spiraled out of hand too fast. And then he and the others were using violence to take whatever they thought they needed. The first time he killed a living person, I was done."  

Steve made a quiet unsure noise but didn't say anything. Bucky could tell he was uncomfortable. It wasn't easy to hear this, he knew that. He just hoped it wouldn't ruin a case for him to join up with Steve's group. He probably should have stopped there but he didn't. "I had to wait a while until I felt like I could actually leave. I've only been away from them for about two and half weeks now. For all I know, they might think I died. But I don't care. I'm out of that. I'm free from him now. And if I keep going, there's a good chance he will never find me." 

Neither of them spoke for a long minute. Steve's eyes were glued to Bucky the entire time. There was a question on his lips that he looked to be struggling to get out. There was an understanding and worry behind his eyes. Bucky wasn't sure what to think of that. 

Steve shifted uncomfortably and moved his leg out from under himself. He nodded slowly and took a deep breath. The tight pained smile gave away his knowledge about the man Bucky was talking about before he even had to ask. "Is his name Rumlow?" 

 

\--- 

 

It took until morning for Steve's people to come get them out of the grocery store. And then it took another long hour for them to decide to allow Bucky to join up with them.  

One of the men – Tony – thought it was far too much of a risk since he was formerly a part of Rumlow's group. As it turned out, Bucky's ex had made a name for himself around the surrounding areas. When he tried to explain that he wasn't supportive of Brock's behavior at all, Bucky was promptly told to shut it. It was clear that he wasn't going to be trusted.  

Another one of the men – T'Challa – argued that, of anyone, Bucky was in the most danger of Rumlow and deserved a chance at refuge with them at least on a trial basis. Also, Bucky's clear skills with firearms, as explained by Steve, meant he could be a useful addition to their team. He voted to bring Bucky along.  

The third one to come help them – Okoye – was on the fence for a while. She understood the merits of bringing him along but didn't want the risk of drawing any attention to them from Rumlow's group. She was also suspicious of Bucky. She said there was no real way to know if he was a plant by Brock to get access to other groups with resources. Eventually, with some convincing from T'Challa, she decided to allow it so long as he was always being watched by someone in some way. 

With the vote three to one, Tony was outnumbered and he reluctantly led the five of them back to their hide-out. 

The first time Bucky saw it from the outside, he didn't think it was anything special. They were holed up in an old YMCA. The logo had been ripped off and the wall spray-painted black so the shadows of the letters couldn't be seen. The lights on the outside were broken and blown out. And there were bio-hazard signs posted periodically on the bricks. It looked like shit. 

But inside it was a completely different place. It had electricity and running water. The dimming fluorescent lights gave everyone an eerie glow. But it was a miracle just to be in a working building again. The old donation room had plenty of clothes to choose from and some stock-piles of food in the corners. Bucky felt sort of bad taking from donations but then he had to remind himself it wasn't like he was stealing what he could afford from those who couldn't. This was a different time. 

It was a small YMCA. There weren't many places to go but everyone seemed to have their own little camp. Bucky was introduced to everyone bit by bit as Steve walked him around. It was a lot to process all at once. He even asked Steve at once point if it was dangerous to be there because of whatever bio-hazard was supposedly in the building. To which, Steve explained they had put the signs up and did all the damage to the outside in hopes that no one else would suspect it was a viable place to live. Surprisingly, it worked for the most part. They had peeked out their windows and watched a lot of people just walk by. Apparently, poorly hung bio-hazard signs were enough to get people concerned to even try it. Of course, some did try. And a few of their people now were ones who took a risk and approached the building. But all-in-all, they went fairly unbothered. 

The best part to Bucky was the water. The old pool had already been drained. It must have been the first thing done when the YMCA closed. And everything else was put on hold and eventually abandoned entirely. But even if the pool was empty, the showers in the locker rooms were still working so far. That first night there, Bucky spent a long time looking in the mirror at his clean face and healthy hair. He would have cried but Steve was there. He was under surveillance, after all. And he didn't yet trust Steve enough to let himself cry in front of him. 

 

\--- 

 

After about a week, Bucky had pretty much been welcomed into the family. There was still some leftover animosity and nervousness from a few people. And Bucky didn't mind. He knew these were worrisome times. He also didn't quite mind the conversations he overheard between Tony and Steve. Tony was so sure something bad was going to happen because of taking Bucky in. He described it as if 'we took our neighbor's cat and called it our own and we are just hoping our neighbor won't come into our house to get his cat back.' 

Bucky was fond of most of the people he now found himself living with. He learned a lot about them all from Steve and sometimes through conversation with each of them or while having meals together. They all had stories to tell, it seemed. No one had anything simple either. It wasn't like anyone could say they were doing okay. Bucky thought that was unique in comparison to Rumlow's group. Some of them would probably say that things were pretty alright. Some of them didn't have any real issues before the spread and nothing major to report thus far. They were a lot less sad than Steve's group who Steve had sort of marketed to Bucky as titans of tragedy. And that wasn't that off-target.  

He learned that Tony was always stressed for a reason. He had a falling out with his fiancé before the spread and he wasn't sure where she was now or if she was safe or even alive. It was hard for him to make any decisions as one of the main leaders without considering if it would have any impact on his goal of finding her. 

Wanda was quiet. Bucky hadn't spoken to her yet. Steve told him that she very recently lost her brother. He was bitten and before he could even feel the poison, he shot himself. It was a very raw wound for her. But she was always accompanied by Clint. He had lost two children of his own so he took it upon himself to sort of be a father to Wanda and watch out for her. No one knew how his kids died or when. He didn't talk about it at all. It was anyone's guess. 

Sam and Natasha were probably the most unknown to him. Bucky hardly ever saw them around. He knew Natasha was a loner that had come to the YMCA a while back. And he knew that Sam was a veteran who had lost a close friend in combat before now. But other than that, they were somewhat of a mystery. More often than not, they were off somewhere alone, trying to enjoy whatever moments they had in their lives before it ended. Bucky had walked in on them having sex twice since he got there. 

Bucky liked T'Challa and Okoye the most. They were definitely the most kind to him and personable even when others weren't. They had been part of the institutions funding early research into the cordyceps and the mutations. The joke about  _H._ _unilateralis_  came from one of the researchers they were funding – T'Challa's own sister Shuri. She was well aware of how bad things could get with the mutations but it was hard to get anyone else to listen no matter how much she did try to explain the potential impending danger. She had been separated from them early on. 

 

\--- 

 

On the other side of things, Bucky and Steve had kind of formed a bond of their own – one apart from the group at large. It was mostly just friendly. They both wanted to have someone to talk to, to care about, and be cared for in return. Unlike some of the others, neither of them had anyone else. Steve was orphaned as a teenager and had no siblings and Bucky hadn't spoken to his sister since his father's funeral. They needed each other. 

As well as clinging to one another for friendship, they took inspiration from Natasha and Sam and opened up to more intimate involvement. It was mostly just born out of a desire to connect through more than just talking or being on watch together and also because their combined libido was hard to ignore. 

They didn't take their time either. They weren't sure how long they would actually have together so having an exploratory period just seemed unnecessary. It was a little awkward the first time because they basically sat down together and talked about what they liked and didn't like and what their boundaries were. It felt a little too planned and clinical to just go from that to actually touching each other. But it didn't take them too long to find a good rhythm together. 

Bucky found out fast that condoms were hard to come by. And any that were around were in the possession of Natasha. He didn't feel comfortable trying to get some from her. After all, she and Sam had the potential for pregnancy, not him and Steve. It made sense that they would want to hoard as many as they could. It took a lot of discussion between him and Steve before they both agreed it was fine to go without. 

Usually, their moments together waited until night fell. They shared a space in a cleared-out storage room off of the pool. It was quiet and the door shut and locked. Sometimes they fucked elsewhere but their storage room was definitely the safest. 

It always started out the same way. Steve would give Bucky a friendly kiss or two – which Bucky initially wasn't too fond of but quickly changed his mind. Then Bucky would put his hands on either side of Steve's face and kick it up a little. Or he would kiss down Steve's neck and shoulders. They both liked to feel their way down each other's bodies. 

Making out eventually gave way to undressing each other. Steve always made the first move, usually with Bucky's jacket and then his shirt. The first time he had seen Bucky shirtless was when he was on watch that first night they brought Bucky in. Bucky walked by him as he pulled his shirt off to go shower and Steve's eyes fixated on a tattoo on his chest and then a long scar on his stomach. The tattoo was a cluster of roses. Bucky told him he got it on a whim after his dad died and he was in a haze of mourning for a while. The scar was from a simple appendix removal surgery that just hadn't healed right. But Bucky liked to pretend it was a knife wound. Once, Steve jokingly called him his 'tough guy' and Bucky jumped him right there and sucked him off. 

They weren't consistent with their original plans and boundaries either. They had agreed before the first time that they should have a balance of who was on top and bottom every time. But without realizing it, more often than not, Steve was inside Bucky before they could figure out whose turn it was.  

And Bucky didn't need him to go slow either. He didn't like him to go slow. Steve would start with one lubed finger pushing inside Bucky's ass and then three seconds later, Bucky would be demanding he hurry up with the second one. He had also offhandedly mentioned that Steve's dick was roughly the same size and length as Brock's. He immediately regretted saying so the moment Steve pulled back with a scrunched face and hurt look in his eye. Steve had responded with something like, "I don't really want to hear how my cock is similar to your murderous ex-boyfriend's..." And that had ended things that night.  

But most nights were more than great between them. They had relative privacy so they weren't too shy about changing things up from time to time. Regular 'on your back with the blanket over you both' sex was fine but they were too bored to keep it that way. They had a table on the other side of the room and sometimes Bucky would sit on the edge and Steve would hold him close and lift him up if he could. Or Steve would bend over the table and spread his cheeks apart and wait for Bucky to take him.  

The most common fuck was with Steve laying on the pool-floatie-mattress and Bucky bouncing on his cock until he shot come out over Steve's chest and neck. He could shoot pretty far. His record was the middle of Steve's cheek. And after he came, it was only ever a few short minutes before Steve was spilling up into Bucky's tight ass as well. Steve's orgasm face was a little ridiculous and Steve knew it but Bucky loved it. 

So far, they had only been interrupted once. It was after someone new had come to the YMCA to investigate if it was really a bio-waste dump or not. And, as was the policy, the three main leaders had to be present to decide what they were going to do. Bucky just wished it wasn't Tony who had walked in and saw him seated full of Steve's dick with his hand held tight around the base of his own cock so he could try not to come as fast. He also wished he had just gotten up to lock the door. They started to lock it every time after that. 

Neither Bucky nor Steve thought much about what they were doing either. But after Tony found them, word got around. Natasha was the first to ask him about it. It was their longest conversation ever. She asked if they were a 'thing' now, to which Bucky replied that it wasn't so much a 'thing' but just being close in a lot of ways. "You mean like friends with benefits?" She countered bluntly.  

"No, like whatever you and Sam have. Just intimate and physical and... friendly." Bucky hadn't realized just how this might look to the rest of the group who had known Steve a while and basically just met Bucky. Some guy who had been dating one of the major dangers in their area just came in and started to fuck one of their family, one of their leaders? And he didn't seem to think anything of it? It was understandable that people wanted to know. 

Natasha made it clear that she and Sam did consider themselves friends with benefits. She finally disclosed that both of them still felt in love with people from their past so putting a relationship label on it seemed unwise. They were helping one another move past loss and fear and pain – currently, as friends, but maybe one day as someone on a new level.  

And all that just made Bucky far more introspective about what he and Steve were to each other than he had ever wanted to be. After all, this was just supposed to be easy now. The hard stuff was over. He had left Brock. It wasn't supposed to go back to being complicated all over again. 

 

\--- 

 

A few months after Bucky escaped from Rumlow, he saw him again.  

He and Steve were sent out on a supply run and there was a cul-de-sac several miles east of their base with several houses that they hadn't been to yet. They were alone for a while. After they checked every house for biters – Steve still didn't feel quite right about Bucky calling them 'zombies' - they split up to search, Bucky taking the two houses on the left of the circle and Steve with the two on the right. 

Bucky was nose-deep in a pantry, on his hands and knees and searching through some cans, boxes, and bags for whatever he thought they could use. He put a jar of peanut butter aside to take back. He was allergic, but everyone else would be glad for it. 

If Bucky would have thought about it, he would have admitted that his skills had weakened since joining up with a new group. He was less wild now, calmer. Every tiny sound didn't make his heart rate skyrocket. He was less vigilant. It was a problem. It was like when he was with Rumlow's group, he was constantly afraid. And then when he was on his own, he had no one to save him if he messed up. Now, he had Steve and the others. He used them as a crutch.  

And that's why he hadn't realized that there was someone else in the house now. He was too focused on his thoughts and only finally caught on when he heard a low gravelly voice that said, "No, we don't need to take silverware. That's not really that necessary, Jared. Just grab whatever you can and I'll decide if we need it." 

Bucky froze. That was Brock's voice, plain as day. He couldn't let him find him. He had spent this long making sure he didn't get caught by him again. Bucky didn't want to go back to belonging to Brock – which was what he was, really.  

Steve had helped him talk about his whole relationship with Brock from the very beginning until the end. He showed Bucky how he was always a pawn for him even at the start when things weren't horrible yet. Steve pointed out all the unhealthy and abusive stuff that was going on way before the spread. They talked about all the lying and the occasional sleeping around and all the emotional manipulation and the way Brock used sex as both a threat and a means of coercion depending on what he wanted from Bucky. And all that was before now when Rumlow allowed himself to expand his criminality and violence since there was no real danger of retaliation or jail time or anything like that. In this lawless chaos of every man for himself, he thrived in ways. 

And there was no way Bucky was letting himself become that toy for Brock again. So, he had to hide. But he had already been around this house. There was no place good enough to tuck away that Brock and Jared wouldn't come across him eventually. His only option was to get out of the house. Then he could go find Steve and get the hell out of here. 

From what he could tell listening in on the chatter, the two of them were in the living room still. Brock was thorough when he did searches. He was going to upturn everything just in case something useful was hidden where others wouldn't have found it. That meant that Bucky had a window of opportunity to sneak out of the pantry and down the hall between the staircase and the back door. If he was lucky and careful, he could be quiet enough to get out without them realizing he was ever there. 

"Damn, whoever was here had good taste in movies," Jared said and Bucky heard the rattling of cases as Jared looked through them. "I mean, I know there's no point in taking them but they just have a nice collection." Bucky stood slowly and peeked out the door for a moment just to be sure. No one was in the kitchen. 

A loud crash resounded from the living room and Bucky guessed Brock had shoved the shelf of movies over and they all clamored out on the floor. Bucky used the noise as cover to push out the door and press himself to the wall to wait. "I swear to god, Jared. Focus. You're only here because Paul twisted his ankle. I generously allowed you to join me today. So, don't make a moron of me for thinking you were worth anything. Get it together."  

Bucky had heard talk like that from Rumlow before. His already racing heart clenched and he felt a wave of emotions wash over him. It was a strange combination of sadness and anger and nostalgia and longing. He was kicking himself for even still feeling for an instant that maybe things could be okay. Maybe he should just reveal himself and go back. Brock would forgive him for running away. He would protect him too. It was like Bucky was an addict and just couldn't see that he could live without Brock. Like the second he was near again, there was that seed of doubt that he really didn't do the right thing by pulling himself away. 

He shook his head. There was no time for him to think this over right now. He had to get out. If he changed his mind later, he knew where to find Brock. But for now, he needed to scoot his way along the wall. 

"I'm paying attention, boss," Jared said sheepishly. It was followed by some scraping and shuffling of the movie cases being shoved aside so they could see if anything was behind the shelf. 

Bucky was at the edge of the wall now. He glanced into the living room for a second and saw Jared down on the floor inspecting the space under the entertainment unit. And there was Brock standing over him with a semi-automatic slung over his back and two additional handguns on his belt. Squeezing his eyes shut so he wouldn’t be tempted to look at him again, Bucky ducked down so he was below eye line and he darted silently to the other said of the hall. 

Everything was quiet except for Jared grunting as he moved some heavy objects around. Neither of them had heard Bucky moving around. He was at the door now. His chest felt like a drum as the fear of being caught and the anticipation of being free were mixing together loudly. He covered his mouth with one hand, concerned that his now heavy breathing would give him away. With the other hand, he reached for the doorknob and started to turn it as slowly as humanly possible.  

"Nothing under here. Just some dust and an old baseball." Jared's voice masked the little click in the locking mechanism.  

Bucky could have yelped in triumph as the door opened noiselessly for him. He had anticipated a squeak or two from the hinges but there was nothing. Either they had been oiled up recently enough or the adrenaline in Bucky's body made all sound impossible to hear in that moment. Or he just simply got very lucky. 

His luck, however, ran out within seconds. He managed to get outside and even pull the door almost closed before he was jumped. And the thump of his body landing on the porch coupled with his loud, involuntary, "Fuck!" ruined his escape plan. 

The monster was on him with mouth wide open and snarled groans screaming at him like it was pleading with Bucky to just allow one bite. They were much louder up close. The normal annoying yelps and calls were much more frightening when a mindless shell was shrieking right in his face with no intention to stop. It could attract others this way, of course. And it might need the back-up. 

Bucky was trapped underneath it. His foot was caught in a lawn chair that had lodged itself in the fencing of the porch. Even if he could wrestle this thing off of him, it still wouldn't be a quick escape down the porch stairs. The strangest part was how slow time seemed to go for him. His seconds elongated into hours and he had time to actually get a good look at the thing. 

He hadn't been this close to one before. He had run-ins that got near him but never anything like this. He could see the details of molded yellow in the eyes. He saw that this one had most of its teeth still except that two molars in the back had dental crowns. The fungal protrusions from the back of its head were still small. That meant it wasn't yet ready to collapse. Only the truly dead had the large antler-like headpieces. It was like a visual timer of how long the host body had left. This one, left on its own, had another week and a half at best. 

Time sped back up, though. He heard a loud bang and watched a bullet tear through its skull while its eyes were still fixed to his. The second the body stopped pushing back on him, Bucky shoved it off and scrambled back. His foot was still caught in the folding chair and he didn't even stop to think about who just saved him. Brock was still around and that meant he needed to run. He didn't even look up at the man standing over him until he was engulfed in a hug from arms he knew too well. 

"God, I thought you were dead," Brock said, clinging to Bucky tightly. His beard tickled Bucky's forehead and that familiar smell he had was back in Bucky's nose. Bucky slowly looked up at Brock's face, not yet speaking a word. "You've been missing for so long. We all thought you were gone. What happened to you, Babe?" 

Bucky was pulled from his shock instantaneously.  _Babe._  How dare he call him that. He pushed his hands on Brock's chest to get him off. Now that he was slightly more cognizant, he was able to slip his foot out of the chair without issue. His shaky hands helped push him up from the ground and he stood on even more wobbly legs. He didn't know what else to say so he skipped past any small talk. "I'm not coming back with you." 

They were both silent. Jared was standing in the doorway behind Rumlow and he looked away so he wouldn't be intruding on this. Bucky could tell by the look on Brock's face that he had a million things he wanted to say and he was just trying to decide what to choose first. So, Bucky cut back in and decided to explain before he allowed Brock to talk at all. 

"I'm not coming back," Bucky repeated, standing a little taller and straighter like it would help his case at all. "I left because I wanted to. I was done. I... I should have left you years ago. I should have walked out of our apartment after I learned what you actually meant by saying you were a 'salesman'. I was so stupid, I know. But I stayed and that was a mistake. So, I'm leaving now." He paused and shook his head. "No. I mean, I left already. And I'm not going back." 

Brock's jaw was clenched tight. Bucky knew he didn't care that Bucky wanted to leave or that he felt like he should have left before. Brock didn't have any regard for his feelings, that was clear to him now. But he just really didn't like to lose. And he really didn't like when people got wise to him and took off. "We had a funeral for you," he started with a quiet tone, not yet showing his anger through his voice. "After you didn't come back for three days, we figured you were dead. Then a week later, we called our little search off. We took the stuff you left behind and burned it. It was just some shirts and book but it was all we had for our ceremony." 

Jared nodded behind Rumlow but didn't look at Bucky. Bucky nodded along with him, a tight smile pulling at his face. Now he got it. This was how Brock tried to play his emotions against him. This was a well-known feeling at this point. But it was new that he felt like he could fight it. "Yeah? You had a funeral for me? Do you want me to say thank you? Do you want me to apologize? Are you hoping that little sob story will convince me you care and I'll want to just run into your arms? I'll come live with you all again and you can be the leader with his long-lost partner returned to him. And I'll be the murder-bride who sits around and lets you carry on this way." 

Before Brock could counter any of that, Steve finally showed up. He came running from across the road and turned the side of the house to get to Bucky, sort of ignoring that anyone else was even there. The second he was close, he touched Bucky's cheek and his neck and looked him over for injuries. "I heard a gun-shot and biters yelling. Are you okay? Are you bitten?" Bucky shook his head and gestured vaguely so Steve would know he was okay. Steve turned and finally looked at the others. His hand was still on Bucky, on his lower back to hold him close and safe.  

Brock scoffed and crossed his arms. "Oh, I get it. Here I was thinking you had survived this whole time on your own. I should have guessed that wasn't possible. You just went and found yourself a guard dog. A new boy to protect you and provide for you and fuck you. Are there others of you? Did you find a nice little troop of your own, Buck?" He laughed heartily and looked Steve dead in the eyes. "Where's your camp, huh?" he asked with icy curiosity. If they had someplace better, he wanted it. 

"Leave us alone," Steve spit out sternly, only solidifying Brock's suspicion that they did have a group to hide someplace. He had caught on to just who this was now and he was livid. "Come on, Bucky. Let's get out of here." He took Bucky by the hand and pulled him off the porch. Bucky was coming down from his spike of adrenaline and he was so exhausted he could just collapse. 

But Rumlow wasn't about to just let them walk away. He jumped off the porch and yanked Steve away from Bucky. "You're not going anywhere," he said and slammed his closed fist into the side of Steve's face. He was leaving with Bucky and he would go through this new boy if he had to.  

"Oh, shit," Jared gasped and tromped down to come help before Brock put a hand up to stop him.  

Steve squared up to him and waited a moment before barreling into his stomach with his shoulder. They both crumbled to the ground and Steve was ready. He blocked a few jabs and dug his knee into Brock's groin, eliciting a pained yelped from him. He was distracted by his momentary satisfaction and was flipped to his back. Rumlow got three solid punches in before Bucky came up behind him to try to drag him off of Steve. It earned him a hit to face and his stomach and his already shaken up body couldn't get him back up to help. 

Their brawl was cut short by the undeniable screech of more biters coming for them. All four of them looked up to see a small herd spilling between the houses and getting their targets in sight. 

Jared was the first to react. He pulled his shotgun up and aimed for the herd but didn't shoot. "Boss, let's go. Come on. We have to go," he said, nudging Rumlow and passing a handgun to him even though he had enough of his own to choose from. "We got to leave this for now, man." 

Steve took the moment of preoccupation to hustle away from Brock who now had a loaded gun in hand and no issues with killing the living. He grabbed Bucky by the hand and hoisted him up off the ground. "You have to do me a favor and run, Bucky," he pleaded, holding his hands on his face so he would listen. "I know you're beat but you have to run now, Baby." 

It was absolutely not the time to focus on it, but Steve had just called him 'Baby'. That was new. But he really couldn't spend even a moment wondering about it. He looked back to Brock and Jared who were closer to the herd than they were. The two of them started to shoot. Unlike Steve and Bucky, they would have to go through the biters to get back to their base. And they were too focused right now on surviving the dead to care about their quarrel with the living. 

Bucky looked back at Steve and nodded. He followed where Steve was pointing and took off at a sprint. He was faster than Steve just a little bit and he kept looking over his shoulder to make sure he was still behind him. But every time he did, he would see the biters getting further in the background. Bucky couldn’t see Brock after a few seconds. He didn't see if he and Jared had pushed through or not. At this moment, though, he didn't care. He and Steve weren't out of it yet. 

They didn't stop for another eight minutes or so. By then, Bucky estimated that they had put a little over a mile between themselves and the herd. It wasn't enough yet but at least they could take a short break to decide where to run next.  

There was car abandoned on the road and Bucky, gasping and holding his chest, sat on the hood and slumped back. He pulled a bottle of water from his pack and drank half before handing it to Steve. They were both hard of breathing and sweating far too much under the unrelenting sun. It took a while before either of them could speak. 

"I'm sorry," Bucky said softly through a wheezing gasp. He reached for Steve's hand gave it a small squeeze. 

Steve brought their hands up to his lips and kissed the back of Bucky's knuckles. "Just glad you're alive." He managed a small smile and leaned against Bucky for support. 

Something in Bucky's soul whined in gratitude that he was allowed to have Steve close to him. He needed him. That was clear. He loved him too. Although, he wasn't sure in what way. But now wasn't the time for that either. "I'm really sorry he attacked you. That's all my fault." 

"No, no, please don't worry about that. I'm fine," Steve responded and pulled Bucky in for a  tight hug. "I'm just so happy you're safe." He pulled back just enough to see Bucky's face. He touched his neck again and smiled. 

Being close to Steve and having him hug him and touch him felt so wildly different from Brock doing the same. He wasn't trying to get away from Steve. He relaxed into him and pressed his mouth to Steve's cheek and then to his lips. It felt important. Like it was an apology, a show of thanks, and a promise all at once. When he pulled away, Steve's eyes were bright and that was more reassuring than Bucky thought it would be. He sighed, finally able to breathe right again. "We should start walking again. We will have to take a long way around to get back. We don’t want to risk any of that herd figuring out we are in the YMCA." 

Steve nodded in agreement. He pulled got off the car and pulled his pack back on and fastened the straps. "Yeah, let's head back," he said as he watched Bucky peel himself off the car too. "I'm just relieved all that is over." 

Steve might have been talking about the running or being faced with a large herd or the run-in with Brock or all of it. But whatever it was, he was much more optimistic than Bucky was. Even if that particular cluster didn't find them, there were always others. And, so long as he survived, Brock wouldn't be away for long. Bucky wasn't fooled to think that was the last time he would see him. And now Rumlow knew he had left on purpose and that there was bound to be a base camp somewhere that he hadn't already ransacked. This was far from over. But Bucky didn't have it in him to smack that optimistic smile from Steve's face just yet. 

"Yeah..." Bucky said flatly, taking Steve's hand in his. "Glad it's over too." 


End file.
